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Ning Ning took a deep breath and continued, in a tone that sounded almost like she was marching to her death. "So! Tonight, at the hour of the Pig! Are you free?"

Her expression was vacant, her voice as loud as a bell. By the time she finished, her face had gone several shades paler. According to the established plot, Meng Jue would immediately understand that his Junior Sister was inviting him to a secret rendezvous, then refuse without hesitation.

—Not to mention that the original spent a long time describing her gestures and expressions: things like "her voice as alluring as a gossamer thread," "her fingers gently tugging at Meng Jue's robe," and "a bewitching fragrance filling the air." Even Ning Ning, a girl herself, thought she'd be unable to resist, yet Meng Jue could calmly say no.

Now she looked completely unwilling, her voice stiff as a robot's, as if she were marching to her death. He would surely find her even more off-putting.

Ning Ning had already prepared herself to be bluntly rejected.

To her surprise, Meng Jue hesitated for a moment, then curved his beautiful, peach-blossom eyes. "All right."

Ning Ning: What did you say? Are you crazy, or am I?

The truly crazy part was still to come.

Meng Jue's smile deepened as he spoke, and he even revealed a trace of elusive tenderness. "How about I teach you some things... beyond your years?"

Ning Ning was stunned.

If her pupils could quake, she would have been shaken to pieces.

Wait, what?

Senior Brother, are you really that blunt? Is this your character setting? Snap out of it, Senior Brother!

=====

Noon, a small courtyard.

Moonlight wavered through the branches, and a thin mist quietly rose. The tranquil night spread down from the sky, silently seeping into every inch of earth.

Starlight and moonlight scattered hazy shadows, which slipped into the courtyard where Ning Ning lived on the breeze, illuminating the girl's faintly flushed cheeks.

"Senior Brother." Ning Ning hadn't expected Meng Jue to keep his word and actually come to this little courtyard at the hour of the Pig. It was now midnight. Her back was pressed tightly against his chest, their black hair damp with sweat overlapping, cast in a suggestive glow by the moonlight.

Her whole body was shrouded in an unbearable heat. She bit her lip, suppressing the panting that threatened to escape. "This really won't do."

Meng Jue stood unusually close to her, his palm lightly grasping the girl's slender wrist. When he spoke softly, a smile in his voice, his warm breath carried the cool fragrance of bamboo and lingered at the hollow of her neck, her most sensitive spot. "Is Junior Sister tired?"

Ning Ning no longer had the strength to nod.

Of course!

If you practiced swordsmanship for three hours straight, wouldn't you be tired? How could you treat a beautiful fellow disciple like this? Meng Jue, do you have no heart?

After saying his piece that day, Senior Brother had left without giving her the slightest chance to back out. Then, after Ning Ning had spent the whole night waiting in trepidation, he not only really came, but brought a Sword Manual too.

That's right. The "things beyond her years" Meng Jue had mentioned—

were a rare, earth-shattering, heaven-shaking set of advanced sword techniques that left her half-dead with exhaustion after a single run-through.

So it really was too much for someone her age to bear. Heh.

You win.

What on earth went through the minds of you Sword Cultivators all day? Could you try thinking like normal people for once? Did what she said sound like she couldn't wait to learn sword techniques? Huh?

But Meng Jue didn't think about it the way she did at all.

When his Junior Sister first spoke, he had indeed assumed she harbored improper intentions. He'd originally meant to refuse, but her expression was, really, just far too ugly.

Had you ever seen someone invite a man to meet in the middle of the night with a corpse-like face? Had you ever heard anyone try to seduce someone in a tone that sounded like she was marching to her death? Had you ever seen someone with eyes wide as brass bells and a face pale as a ghost, trying to tempt someone with that expression?

Meng Jue hadn't.

He had seen plenty of women scheme to get close to him. Every one of them had spoken softly, cast flirtatious glances, and seemed ready to melt into a puddle and throw herself into his arms.

But Junior Sister wasn't like that.

Her expression brimmed with humiliation, shyness, and resentment. Most of all, it was filled with a resolve to face death without flinching.

—She had clearly lost to an Outer Sect Disciple and couldn't accept it, so she'd come to ask him for swordsmanship lessons!

The humiliation and resentment of losing to Pei Ji, the shyness of speaking to him first, and the resolve to keep asking for instruction even if she knew he wouldn't go easy on her and she might end up exhausted to the point of collapse.

Understood this way, everything made sense.

This was what it meant to be a Sword Cultivator!

Meng Jue was deeply moved to discover that his naturally overbearing Junior Sister was so eager to improve.

"Senior Brother," Ning Ning said. After three hours of practice, her eyes were as lifeless as a dead fish. She felt that a young Sword Cultivator had lost her dream that very night. "I can't learn it. I really can't."

So please, just let her go!!!

She'd been blown up by a pill furnace, tormented by swordsmanship, and mistaken for a lovesick girl who followed a young man back to his dorm.

She was just an ordinary vicious supporting character! Was this really the fate a vicious supporting character was supposed to suffer? This was obviously an immortal-cultivation version of to live!

Ning Ning felt she had it worse than Xianglin's Wife. She was so stupid, really.

She felt like there was something wrong with the entire sect.

And aside from the three she'd already met, there were still several other targets to win over. Heaven knew what sort of monsters and demons were hidden among them, ready to torment her in all kinds of ways.

Senior Brother's clear, otherworldly voice came from beside her ear, gentle as jade and considerate to a fault. "Junior Sister, you've already learned a good portion of this sword technique. With a little more practice, you'll surely make a breakthrough. The greatest taboo for those who cultivate the Dao is giving up halfway. Why not have a little more confidence?"

Ning Ning took a deep breath and nodded.

She had never spoken a sentence with such absolute conviction before. Each word came out one syllable at a time, every sound infused with an unassailable certainty, brimming with confidence. "Senior Brother! I really can't learn it! I can't!"

Confident enough for you, you rotten Sword Cultivator!

Ning Ning had been hopeless at sports in her previous life.

She could play the piano, draw, and practice calligraphy, but her stamina was absolutely terrible. The only exercise she'd ever done growing up was probably ballet and swan-arm exercises during posture training.

But while everyone else was a pretty little swan, she'd be half-dead from exhaustion halfway through, like a moth flapping about, just waiting to be served for dinner.